Reviews

I watched this film with the expectation of something more than what I got from it. I might have known better a long time ago when school friends told me to go see junk like "Love Story"; that I'd cry my eyes out. Instead, I watched laughable dialogue and cliché nonsense, and frankly, couldn't wait for the abysmal and snotty Ali MacGraw character to die. "Crash" tries to work on many levels. There are some absolutely powerful performances from talents like Terrence Howard (the TV Producer), whose Black manhood is brought to Level Orange by the attempted hijacking of his SUV by Ludicrous and his accomplice; Thandie Newton is searing as his wife, who questions said manhood after they are stopped by the racist cop, Matt Dillon, as he blatantly molests her, while her husband stands by and does nothing; Michael Pena as the Mexican locksmith, a decent and loving family man; Don Cheadle as the cop, whose younger brother is out there somewhere, running with a bad crowd; Matt Dillon, as a deeply embittered racist cop, alienated from most of his peers, and caring for a sick parent; Ryan Philippe, as his squad partner, trying to ease the racial tensions, but ultimately, worse than Dillon in the long run. There are some intensely memorable scenes: The irony of Matt Dillon's character attempting to rescue Thandie Newton after her car crash. Her initial rejection of him, and the ensuing panic mirror the impending flames, and the danger to both of them.

The fuming anger of Terrence Howard brought to boiling point as he wrestles the gun away from Ludicrous, and pistol whips him with it, almost getting into a fatal confrontation with the police himself.

The desperation of Michael Pena as he confronts the angry Iranian shopkeeper waving a gun at him, and nearly loses his adorable little girl in the process.

As far as other performances, Jennifer Esposito is less than memorable as Cheadle's Latin girlfriend, and Sandra Bullock's performance is only strong because it's a "serious" role for her - as opposed to all the comic lightweight fluff she's done, even in "action" movies. She gets to be the angry, rich, bored wife of DA Brendan Fraser, and her racism peaks after their car is initially stolen by Ludicrous. Her final, telling embrace of her Mexican housekeeper, whom she's usually ordering about and verbally abusing, as her "only friend", is lifted right out of "Driving Miss Daisy", when Daisy (Jessica Tandy) makes the same realization about her driver/companion Hoke (Morgan Freeman). Brendan Fraser is just about passable, and some of the other performances just pass muster, but make no indelible impression.

There were some holes that I found in the story. Why is it that when both the DA's vehicle, and Terrence Howard's vehicles were hijacked - absolutely NO ONE was around to see what was happening? After all, Howard's vehicle was hijacked in broad daylight. In a far-fetched turn, when the Iranian shopkeeper managed to find out somehow where Michael Pena lived, and also tracked him down, ready for vengeance because he blamed Pena for the destruction of his store, he also shot at him (and his child) in broad daylight, on a residential street; you mean to tell me that NONE of the neighbors could see or hear this confrontation going on, and call the cops? And why didn't Pena's character call the cops afterward to report this lunatic? After all, he wanted to kill him! Why does Ryan Philippe play "avenging angel" with Terrence Howard, saving him from trigger-happy police, yet, freaks out when he picks up Ludicrous' friend, and shoots him in yet another clichéd unprovoked situation? Why did that Korean woman say "blake", instead of "brake" - another hackneyed cliché right out of WWII propaganda movies (just substitute an "evil" Japanese character)at the sight of the accident with Jennifer Esposito? How did her husband manage to survive being hit by Ludicrous' car, after the two men dragged him out from under it and dumped him out so roughly onto the pavement, he could have bled to death from internal injuries alone? "Crash" makes some important points about racism, but some of the characters boil down to stereotypes, and we are constantly bombarded with this throughout the film. Yes, it's bad, yes, it exists, yes, there's good and bad in all ethnic stratas, but at times it reads like caricature, and somewhat amateurish - which is not to say there are aren't some rather astute observations mixed in, but they seem to get lost in the mix. While I watched this, I thought of an earlier film that sort of paralleled this - Lawrence Kasdan's "Grand Canyon", filmed back in the '90's, examined racial relations in L.A. in a completely different way. I would suggest renting it, and comparing the two. Although times have changed some, basic human nature and attitudes have not.

I went to see this film back in 1998 with my father, who is a WWII veteran who happened to serve in the Pacific Theatre, on Iwo Jima. While on line, he struck up a conversation with another veteran who did happen to serve in the European Theatre, and they discussed old times. But near the end of the conversation, my dad said, "For what? For what?" Something that still resonates with many WWII vets who are still alive, and saw that war was not the prettified heroics pumped out of the Hollywood studios, but a very real, bloody and bewildering hell, fought by the young and vital, male and female alike.

The premise of the film being a young man who has already lost several brothers in the service, being saved by a platoon unknown to him has its basis in fact. During the Second World War, many families had several sons who either enlisted, or were drafted, and went into different military units. The five Sullivan brothers, all of whom were lost during the sinking of the USS Juneau, were the most famously representative of this tragedy, and after the war, the practice of multiple draft recipients from one family was eliminated. Does anyone remember the scene where Private Ryan's mother sees an Army car pulling up to her porch? The serviceman and her local clergyman approach her, and she sinks down, struck by the horrible reality they are about to convey. The terrible simplicity of this is deeply moving.

There is also a brief scene in the beginning showing a secretarial pool for the Armed Services, where letters for medals, both posthumous and for the living, were typed and sent to families around the country. My mother worked in one of those pools, and it was not an easy job to deal with day by day.

Some have asked - why no British soldiers here? This is an American platoon on the Omaha beachhead, not one of Montgomery's units. The daily dangers and horrors of war are vividly portrayed. The deaths aren't pretty, and some of the characters aren't pretty, but that's the way war is (and was). You were in a unit with all types, from different states, and your common goal was to survive - kill, or be killed. There were gloryboys and cowards, and some are shown here.

The only maudlin note (and Spielberg can't seem to resist injecting some sentimentality here) is when the mature Ryan, visiting the military cemetery with his family, stops at the grave of his commanding officer John Miller, and asks in tears, "Am I a good man?" In other words - why them, and not me? Why am I here, outliving everyone? It doesn't seem justified to him.

There are some terrific performances to take in : Tom Hanks as John Miller, Matt Damon as Pvt. Ryan, Tom Sizemore, and Vin Diesel, to name just a few.

The sacrifices of our fathers, uncles, and grandfathers' generation were exemplary. They were the lucky ones who came back to lend their voices to history, and without them, many of us, including myself, would not be here. At the end of the film, I sat there, next to my dad, who was also in tears. I would say, "God bless them, one and all."

I have to say that I read the book well after seeing the film on TV, but when I learned that initially John Goodman had been set to play Eddie, but then, dropped out, I was rather pleased, really. He couldn't have given the story the depth and range that Jon Voight did, and Voight is closer to the age of the character than Goodman is (late 60's).

The movie makes you question the validity of your life - not unlike "It's a Wonderful Life", but with a deeper core to it. Five people that, unwittingly, link you to your life's purpose, and bring it to fruition. The supporting cast is wonderful - Ellen Burstyn, an unrecognizable Jeff Daniels, Michael Imperioli, and the actress portraying Eddie's wife (I'm sorry, but can't think of her name). Mitch Albom said that he had written the book in memory of HIS Uncle Eddie, a WWII veteran who had had a hard life, and never thought that much of himself, but who Mitch loved, and who was loved by others.

Voight's Eddie is a humble man, beset by life's tragedies; a war injury, a dysfunctional relationship with his father, thwarted economic gains by taking a menial job in an amusement park that led to nowhere, a beautiful, young wife who loves him dearly, but who dies tragically young. No wonder he is so reticent, swallowing everything that comes his way. He doubts his own worth. And his death at 83 is sudden and shocking, during the act of saving a little girl at the Ruby Pier where he works.

His heaven is one that leads to encounters with the Blue Man (a park character he had seen as a child), Ruby herself (the pier's namesake), who later inspires him to make amends with his hardened, unhappy father, his commanding officer in the Army, and most finally, the little girl who he had accidentally burned to death in the hut when he was a young soldier (I know I'm leaving someone out, because there's five - so please bear with me).

The book itself brought moments to me that recalled the era when my parents were young, because I am the daughter of a WWII veteran, and my parents themselves, and my own paternal uncle. The movie brought me to tears several times, mostly because of Voight's sensitive performance, and the final reunion with his late wife - beautifully unveiled to the viewer - left me sobbing uncontrollably. I can say that both the book and movie did justice to one another, and the movie was inclusive of just enough to flesh out the story of a simple man.

I would recommend this highly as not only classic holiday viewing, but as a film that touches you, in a deceptively simple way, and makes you reassess your own life. I sincerely hope it comes out on DVD; I wouldn't hesitate to purchase it - as a gift for others, and for myself as well.

Despite a very good cast (Denzel Washington, John Goodman, Donald Sutherland, Elias Koteas), the premise of a demon (Azazel) released from the dying body of an executed murderer possessing others (like "the gift that just keeps on giving") is truly far-fetched here. I don't care what nifty music you add to a soundtrack; it doesn't heft up the lack of originality evidenced in this story. It is just too derivative from other, far superior, movies -- like "The Exorcist", perhaps, to name just one. And the ending is a major disappointment. It seemed to me like just a waste of my good time, and some fine talents. Boo! Yeah, very scary! Rent something else instead.

I have seen this film several times, and never fail to enjoy it and see different nuances upon each viewing. Huston's framing of Spade as this jaded, small-time PI, could only have been played by someone with the smoky charisma of Bogart. George Raft would not have been too bad, but he didn't carry that particular brand of attraction that might hold your interest. The details are wonderful, too. The rumpled, bachelor apartment that Spade lives in - devoid of any particular personal touch, but still wonderfully evocative of the time period. The lavish hotel suite that Gutman frequents, the non-descript office of Spade and his luckless partner, Archer, transport you back to the '40's whenever you see the film. The feeling is that of cigarette smoke just hanging in the air, thick and acrid and coloring this sordid atmosphere. Unlike several others here, I enjoyed Mary Astor's performance as the unsavory Brigid O'Shaugnessy, despite that awfully severe hairdo. You sort of know that she and Spade are playing a rather dangerous game with one another, yet there is a very palpable degree of sexual attraction to one another, as well as the inference of sexual activity, something not easily accomplished in the censor-heavy film industry. You know, "You use me, and I'll use you" - no strings attached. As well, there is the inference of Spade's prior involvement with his late partner's wife, Iva, who still has eyes for him, even after her husband's murder. The meeting of Spade, Cairo and Gutman is a meeting of three masterful actors with a terrific degree of wit and repartee. Lorre's Cairo is already painted as an effeminate character the minute he enters Spade's office with ironic music, and the scented handkerchief that is remarked upon. Greenstreet's Gutman is a worthy adversary, as admiring of Spade as well as contemptuous of this urban PI. It is interesting to see when the partners in crime - Gutman, Cairo and O'Shaugnessy, virtually claw at each other over this relic, sated with greed. They're certainly of a kind. Elisha Cook's little "gunsel" crackles with energy and the urgency of his mission - to track Spade. He's a little penny-ante, dimestore version of a gangster, and Spade has fun with him in the process. The gay aspect of his relationship with Gutman is mostly inferred in this version, as Gutman later admits he "loves him like a son", but was more openly expressed in the earlier film version when the Spade character called him Gutman's "boyfriend". The ending is powerful and brings to a climax this story of greed, deception, and basic human frailties. They really don't make them like this anymore!

I have seen this film a couple of times, if only for the sinister, multi-faceted performance of Robert Montgomery (Elizabeth's father), but, as someone previously noted, it is an old play and it certainly creaks from time to time. A horrible crime is committed in a small English town; a local woman has been found dead, her head missing. There are no suspects, and the police are alerted for a maniac roaming the area. Rosalind Russell is a prim, bookish young woman staying with Dame May Witty, her petulant, wheelchair-bound aunt. The aunt makes demands of her niece, and tends to be full of unctuous self-pity. Robert Montgomery appears on the scene as Danny, an Irish dandy who is dating one of the old lady's maids. He soon charms Dame May, who hires him on as her helper and general syncophant - flattering her, and giving in to all her petty whims with a smile and a smooth air. Rosalind Russell does not trust him, and lets her dislike of him show, but there seems to be an undercurrent of attraction to him at the same time. Despite her distrust, she leaves her aunt alone with him to visit her lover in town, and the horribly inevitable occurs. I found several holes in this so-called "thriller". One is: if she did not trust him, and wondered about his past, and noted some instability in his personality -- why leave a defenseless old lady alone with him? Why were the police not more suspicious of a newcomer in town, and not more strident in their investigation of him? And, a most unpleasant truth, if indeed he had that missing body part in the infamous hatbox, why didn't the scent of decay (let's be realistic here) permeate that small cottage? That alone would have sent him to the gallows much sooner, as it would have been immediately noticed. So there was a little too much dramatic license here. If you've seen the later remake with Albert Finney - another fine actor who also imbued Danny's character with a very sinister psychosis - you'll find the same stretches of credibility here that detracted from the finale of this drama. It's good watching for the fine character actors in the cast, but not something that I'd think would scare the tar out of you if you examine it closely.

Here we have the inimitable Charlie Chaplin forsaking his slapstick past to tackle the serious subject of anti-Semitism, and intolerance in general. He portrays two characters - the sweet, innocent Jewish barber - a war veteran, and the raving and ruthless dictator, Adenoid Hynkel. The Jewish ghetto in this country is not safe for long, due to the whims of Hynkel and his armed thugs, who routinely rough up its residents, or leave them alone, dependent upon his mood that day or week. The barber is among them, but is befriended by his former commanding officer, Schultz (Reginald Gardner), who seems to keep things quiet for a while, until Hynkel condemns him to a concentration camp. He seeks refuge with the Jews in the ghetto, most specifically the barber, and the feisty young woman, Hannah (Paulette Goddard). The premise will be - who will be the one among these Jews to put their lives on the line to get rid of Hynkel and his cronies? We needn't guess too hard to know the answer; the barber is a dead ringer for the dictator, and he is outfitted in his image, accompanied by Schultz, also in full military gear. Hannah escapes with several of her ghetto friends to the country of Osterlich, where Mr Jaeckel's (Maurice Moscovich) cousin has a farm, and they can live peaceably for a while. At this point, Hynkel himself has been arrested by his armed forces, thinking him to be the notorious barber. The latter, meanwhile, has been escorted with Schultz to a podium, to make a speech announcing the conquest of Osterlich. The ensuing ten minutes is pure Chaplin himself, speaking from his heart of tolerance, love and freedom, and denigrating greed and hatred. Albeit Chaplin started production on the film in 1937, it can be forgiven some naivete. He was allegedly unaware of the gravity of this persecution and hatred, and said had he known the full extent, he would never have made the film, because he most likely believed it would have trivialized the situation. He has a marvelous supporting cast: Reginald Gardner, Henry Daniell as Garbitsch, his aide-de-camp, the always wonderful Billy Gilbert as the bumbling Herring, Paulette Goddard, Jack Oakie as the dictator Napaloni, his rival for conquest, veteran European actors David Gorcey (Leo's father), Maurice Moscovich, among others. The scene he choreographed with globe, with just a musical accompaniment is sheer, luminous inspiration, and luminous, as well, is Paulette Goddard at the film's end, smiling through her tears. I have seen this film before, but there is always something new in it for me. Last evening, when it finished, I sat there in tears. I defy anyone not to be moved by it.

A story of sisterly emnity, if you will. Bette Davis portrays a she-devil - conniving, without a conscience, selfish and immature, while Olivia DeHavilland is the prettier, and kindlier sister, without any ulterior motives. Bette steals away w/Olivia's doctor husband, Dennis Morgan, without considering the consequences, of course. Olivia receives a decree of divorcement, and the other two marry - with dire results. In time, the wild Stanley (Ms Davis), is on the loose. On the way back from a nearby bar, she causes a hit and run accident, killing a little girl and severely injuring her mother. (Look closely, and you'll see that the bartender is none other than Walter Huston. Not the first time his director son, John, cast him in an uncredited role. He did the same in "The Maltese Falcon", as the mortally wounded "Captain Jacoby") Naturally, she denies any wrongdoing, and tries to pass blame to Parry, a young black man who aspires to practice law. Justice prevails. Generally, I have no qualms with Bette Davis, in fact, she's one of my all-time favorite actresses in a class of her own. But I do believe that she does overact here in order to compensate the miscasting of a woman who is supposed to be playing someone at least 10 years younger! Olivia DeHavilland is always a pleasure - low-key, professional, and charming in a thankless role. And of course, there is Charles Coburn, as their uncle, Billie Burke and Frank Craven as their parents, Hattie McDaniel as the mother of the innocent Parry in a heartfelt, but small, role, and Ernest Anderson, who portrays a young black man with dignity and intelligence, (which was rare in those times), Dennis Morgan, and George Brent, as the man Stanley scorns, who later falls in love with her sister. This soaper had no easy answers, and a lot of melodrama, and I don't think it was one of the actresses' best works, but it makes for interesting viewing -- if only to see the wicked Bette get her just reward! (An interesting note: How refreshing it was to see the tables turned as these two wonderful actresses were re-teamed in "Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte" twenty-odd years later, and Olivia DeHavilland was the EVIL one who made poor Bette's life miserable!)

The story of love that transcends time and space is always an enticing and haunting premise. Such is the story of Eben (Joseph Cotten), a New England artist who has come to New York City in 1937 to try to eke out a living. Along the way, he is befriended by Gus (David Wayne), a stage-Irish cabdriver, who is always delivering sage advice, as per what his "dear old Mother" used to say. Eben takes up residence in a boarding house run by Mrs. Jekes (Florence Bates), paying delinquent rents to her via any artwork that may suit her fancy. One cold day in Central Park, Eben sees a pretty young girl dressed modishly, albeit out of fashion for the time, playing alone. Her name is Jennie (Jennifer Jones), and the two strike up a friendship. She reveals her parents do an acrobatic act at the old Hammerstein Theatre, and mentions the Kaiser. But Eben corrects her - the War was over years ago, and the Kaiser is gone. However, this isn't so in Jennie's world. She asks Eben to wait for her; she will come back to him. As time goes by, Jennie returns in different stages of adolescence, and eventually blossoms into a beautiful young woman. Eben paints her portrait, and brings it over to the small gallery run by Ethel Barrymore and Cecil Kellaway. Miss Barrymore is much taken by it, and purchases it from him. It is far superior than others he has brought her. Jennie's background is revealed in vignettes at the convent where she had been schooled, and by those who knew of her parents' tragic deaths at the long-demised Hammerstein Theatre. The tragic conclusion takes place at the New England lighthouse, where Jennie has promised to meet Eben for the last time. The film then transitions into an ominous inky green color, from the delicate black and white, highlighting the storm, and roiling sea. The cinematography, especially the New York exteriors, which were filmed through special filters replicating the texture of oil paintings, was ethereal - absolutely capturing the dreamlike mood.

But, as a reader of the original book by Robert Nathan, there are certain changes I didn't appreciate. For instance, the writers made it very convenient for Jennie to have gone to New England over the years, and rowed out to the lighthouse. In the book, Jennie has been lost at sea long before - washed overboard on the voyage home from Europe with her aunt. The Mrs. Jekes character was softened here; much more venomous in the book, and disapproving of Jennie, whom she literally scared away. Gus, the cabdriver, was an American Jewish character who actually got to meet Jennie when he took her and Eben on a picnic. Some things were compromised in the wash, and may have made a stronger story. But in its favor, the Debussy music compliments the mysterious flavor of this piece, and the acting (even in Jennifer Jones' case), added to the tone of a different sort of love story, and one worth viewing.

I was glad to see the restored version of this film on TCM recently. (The one I had previously seen was the 1944 re-issue, with Arthur Shields as a chaplain in Rome, relating the story of ancient Rome and Christianity to a soldier.) Frederic March (Marcus Superbus), a Roman soldier, does not stick to his vows of eradicating all of the early Christian community - for the sake of love. He is smitten with the beautiful Mercia (Elissa Landi), a girl who must practice her faith in secret for fear of death, and eventually brings her to his house. The Empress Poppeia (Claudette Colbert) is rebuffed by Marcus, as she tries to seduce him. But it is the performance of Charles Laughton, always a superb actor, as the mad Nero, watching as Rome burns, being cuckolded by his unfaithful wife, manipulated and manipulating - that is the strongest here, although he is not on screen for much of the film. Yes, the film does include a daring (for the time) nude milk bath by Miss Colbert, lesbian dancing, and violence galore (some of it very distasteful even by today's standards; some quite unintentionally laughable). And who is that muscular young man sitting near Laughton in the arena scene, holding a bowl of fruit and staring outward? Still, Elissa Landi's performance is very deeply felt, almost to the point of frigidity, as she holds March back from his lovemaking. The film draws to a poignant conclusion, as he takes her for his spiritual bride.

As a correction: that was not John Carradine shouting, "We who are about to die salute you!", that was actor Charles Middleton, who portrayed Ming the Merciless in the old "Flash Gordon" serial. The two actors were of similar physical and vocal type. (A postscript - John Carradine once related a story of Cecil B DeMille regaling him, Charles Laughton, Tyrone Power, and several other actors on a set about how justified he was to imbue Biblical stories with his own personal vision. "I have a very close, personal relationship with God", he said. To which Laughton replied, "Oh my, how cozy!")

I watched The Uninvited yet again on Turner Classic Movies, now that they have this wonderfully spun ghost story, and will try not to miss it, whenever it's shown. It would rank up there with The Haunting (based on Shirley Jackson's frighteningly good book, The Haunting of Hill House) (1963), and The Innocents (1961), (based on Henry James' Turn of the Screw). The premise being two unsuspecting, attractive siblings motoring down from London, and then finding a beautiful, empty old house, purely by accident. But what lurks behind those doors is more than they bargained for. The casting could not have been more perfect! Ray Milland and Ruth Hussey, always attractive and gifted actors, bring wit and subtlety to the intelligent script. And then there is the venerable Donald Crisp as Stella's grandfather - crusty, but fearful, and the lovely, young Gail Russell, as his granddaughter, Stella - whose link to the strange occurrences is more than skin deep. Cornelia Otis Skinner is just about over the top, as the sinister Miss Holloway, Mary Meredith's former nurse, who may or may not have had a lesbian relationship with the former mistress of Wynwood House, and who knows secrets behind the haunting there. Would that they made more movies like this today in this genre - intelligent, scary without FX and blood galore. It captured the feeling of a time and gentility long past; of my parents' generation back in the '40's. It is worthwhile viewing for any generation!